


Inked Violets

by xladysaya



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Childhood Memories, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Tattoos, tons of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-18 06:38:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13094520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xladysaya/pseuds/xladysaya
Summary: Tooru had wished for a lot as a child, but his biggest hopes for the future always seemed to involve Hajime's success, a place to call their own, and ink stained skin.





	Inked Violets

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thunderingskies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderingskies/gifts).



> Hello! This is my gift for CJ (josai on tumblr) for the haikyuuwriters secret santa! I really hope you enjoy this fic ahh it was a blast to write <3

Paints and floor cleaners.

Tooru never thought those two smells would dominate his life, but he was far from displeased about it. They were only two of the best parts of this parlor though.

Ink, and a sharp, electric burn on his skin. The feel of his body sinking into a plush leather chair, and the sound of a motor...

Even better.

\--

**Eight years old.**

When he was eight years old, he would save up his coins from doing chores in a small bowl by his bed. Tooru would do whatever he could, even the gross stuff; washing dishes, taking out the trash, picking up dog poop.  _Anything_ to hear the aluminum clink against the glass. Every day the amount would grow, until finally he managed to scrape together enough for one pack of black art pens (if he was lucky, some colors too) from the clearance bin.

Tooru smiled brightly, his small body buzzing with excitement which he could hardly contain. He and his mom had barely even gone through the front doors of the store with their shopping cart before Tooru was running to the aisle he needed, plastic bag of coins ringing all the way.

(He may have nearly dropped it a few times, but it was all good.)

He practically flung the pens into his mom's cart, but then thought better of it, and went back for a different pack. They would be no use to him broken, and he needed them to work for as long as possible.

His leg still stung from when he scraped it walking the dog, and he swore his hands still smelled like soapy water from the sink, but it was all worth it when his mom told him he could also pick out a pack of colored pens. Tooru grabbed at it excitedly, marveling at the blues, pinks, and reds which he knew Hajime would love.

At the thought of his best friend, his heart soared, and his anticipation shot even higher, kinda similar to when he drank a full Icee at the movie theater and a sugar high kicked in.

It had been that way since they’d met. Since they were five years old.

"Mom! Mom! Can we go now?" Tooru pleaded, hopping in place. At that age, he had no cares whatsoever about any foods that weren't dessert, or the need to shop for them in order to ensure his survival.

He had his priorities in order, and priority number one was making it to Hajime's house as soon as possible.

"Tooru honey, we talked about this  _remember_ ," his mother said, and the tone already had him shrinking back from the scolding. "I said you could stay over at Hajime's tonight  _only_  if you were patient while we run errands. We agreed  _right_?"

It wasn't so much a question as much as a demand, and while Tooru was no stranger to the whining tactic, he knew better in this situation.

Tooru felt his shoulders slump, but he fought back a pout, not wanting to risk anything being seen as bad behavior. Staring at the grey store tile, he nodded slowly, about as dejected as he could get. In reality, he'd probably be at Hajime's in less than an hour, but it felt like a lifetime.

"Okay," he mumbled, following his mother as she seemed to push the cart aimlessly down every single aisle. Tooru didn't realize how long it could take someone to pick out a type of bread. Or eggs. Or milk.

Why was grocery shopping so complicated?

Soon enough though, his time in the produce aisle came to an end, and he ran to the cashier as if it was truly a safe haven. He even helped bag the groceries, and his mom let him type in their rewards card number.

Tooru had things  _down_.

And most importantly, when they hopped back into their car, his mom took a right instead of a left down the main road, straight to Hajime's house.

\--

See, Tooru knew Hajime had a calling since the first time the shorter boy had started to mindlessly sketch all across Tooru's notebooks.

From simple doodles to full blown pictures, Hajime would wear down every single one of his pencils to the tip, drawing out designs across the thin sheets. Beetles, cool shapes, and even flowers (when he thought Tooru wouldn't see) would start showing up on every loose scrap of homework and note pages.

And when he would run out of paper, the only next logical step was to move onto skin. Tooru's to be more specific.

"Hajime! Lemme see!" Tooru giggled, the felt tip marker gliding across his pale skin. It tickled, but he bit his lip and sat as still as possible, eager to help Hajime make the perfect picture.

"I'm almost done!" Hajime whispered happily, and Tooru stretched his neck so he could peek at Hajime's expression. His eyes were squinted like an old man's, his tongue sticking out in concentration. It made Tooru want to giggle even more, but he held it in.

"Will you tell me what it is yet?" Tooru insisted, stretching out the question to be as obnoxious as possible. Hajime would nag him for it, but it usually had the desired effect. Hajime gave into him eventually, without a doubt.

Well, most of the time.

"I told you it's a surprise!" Hajime said, reaching up to swipe the black pen against Tooru's cheek, and that's all it took to break the dam. The stripe traveled from his cheek to his chin, even as Tooru pushed him away, but Hajime was far from done. He grabbed as many colors as he could, dotting Tooru in the arms and legs as well (avoiding his creation of course).

Tooru erupted into a laughing fit. They both did, clutching their stomachs while Hajime fought to keep Tooru's noodle arms from reaching for a pen of his own to use as a weapon.

Ten minutes and about a hundred multicolored stripes later, Hajime declared his work finished, mostly because now there was no hope of getting Tooru to sit without moving.

Tooru practically jumped with delight, rushing to the mirror in the bathroom with Hajime close behind. He liked the bathrooms in Hajime's house because they looked old and fancy, despite how new the house was, but mostly because of the large mirror in each one. Perfect for seeing every inch of ink on his skin. He paid no mind to the thousands of other blotches on his skin, courtesy of Hajime, his little brain all too taken with the sight before him.

The picture was  _amazing_.

Sprawling vines outlined in black and turquoise lined his arm, large orchid flowers appearing here and there in purple and red. The colors would probably not look good sitting together in his crayon box, but somehow, Hajime made them work. The coloring was messy and the flowers probably weren’t neat, but to Tooru’s child brain, it was perfect.

Not that Tooru was surprised with Hajime’s skills. The lines were kind of shaky because of how Tooru had squirmed, but it did nothing to take away from how impressive it was. The vines wrapped from the top of his arm to his wrist, the bright colors lightly smudged here and there, with each flower taking up a palm's worth of space on Tooru's stick limbs.

He always hated how scrawny he was, mostly because it meant Hajime had less room to draw.

Tooru's eyes widened, marveling at his arm like it was treasure. It certainly felt like it. This was how he reacted whenever Hajime gave him a picture, his awe never dulled. It made him feel special, so special and warm that he didn't have a word for it, not at that age.

"Hajime...it's so awesome! Can I have more? Please? You can use my other arm!" Tooru exclaimed, practically jumping in place. His mom would throw a fit when she saw the markings the next day, but Tooru had gotten pretty good at hiding them. And although he hated to, the type of marker he bought washed off fairly easy with warm water. He hated seeing Hajime's work go to waste though, or fade away...

It wasn't like there was anyway for the ink to be permanent though, no matter how much he wished. Having Hajime's art on him forever would be amazing! All the kids at school would be more jealous than normal, since they were always asking Hajime to draw them stuff.

Sometimes in class Hajime would pass him pictures when the teacher wasn't looking, and Tooru would send back his own shoddy doodles. They never compared, but Hajime's face still lit up when he saw them.

Nothing was better in Tooru's mind. No day could be considered good unless he made Hajime smile.

His best friend beamed, having been standing in the doorway watching every change in Tooru's expression. The lightest blush dusted his cheeks, one he never showed on the playground, and Tooru poked him, teasing.

"C'mon, c'mon! Please! Your art is real good! Better than that! It's the best!" Tooru said, already dragging Hajime back to his bedroom floor to start drawing more. Unless Hajime really didn't want to. Then they could watch a movie. Honestly, nothing was ever boring during one of their sleepovers, even if all they did was sit around the house.

Hajime blushed harder, but let himself be pulled. "I-I'm not that great yet! You should see how the middle school kids draw, it makes mine look like a baby drew it-- _oof_!"

Now, sometimes Hajime got like this, and Tooru didn't really get why. When he was good at something, he made sure to let every single person know. His mom. His teachers. Random people at the supermarket, whoever would listen really.

Oikawa Tooru had many talents, and naturally, so did his best friend. But Hajime was less upfront in advertising them, and when it came to his art, he got downright shy. Tooru couldn't have that.

He pulled Hajime to the floor, making sure their eyes locked before Hajime could start spilling protests. Tooru knew how to handle this, and he wouldn't back down. He fixed Hajime with the most intense stare he could manage (the one he knew sometimes creeped Hajime out), leaving no room for arguments.

"That doesn't matter! Just think how good you'll be by then! You'll be like a gajillion times better than now!" Tooru urged, stretching his arms wide, as if that would possibly convey the magnitude which he was getting at. "And we'll have a better allowance by then, so we can get even better pens and stuff!"

Hajime laughed, his grouchy features softening into an expression which made Tooru's head spin. "Maybe you're right..."

"I'm always right," Tooru pouted, receiving a small kick from Hajime in return.

His best friend nudged him a few times, ignoring the hands attempting to swat him away, his eyes shining. Tooru wondered if there was a pen out there that matched Hajime's eyes exactly, suddenly compelled to find one.

"Okay okay!" Hajime giggled, grasping at a few of the pens they hadn't opened yet. "Maybe when I can buy more sketchbooks, I won't have to draw on you as much either..." His voice trailed off, like the possibility had dawned on him and disappointed him in less than an instant. Hajime's face fell a little, his hands fiddling with the dark green in thought.

The words made Tooru's stomach churn, and he had no problem showing his displeasure for the idea. There was no way that would happen, not even if Hajime had every piece of paper in the world. Tooru loved wearing his creations, so matter how much they got smudged or how hard he had to scrub in the bath. He loved them, he wouldn't trade them for all the toys in the world.

"No way! Not ever, you swear?" Tooru insisted, not knowing how much the promise would truly carry into the future. He stuck out his hand, pinkie finger raised, and waited for the inevitable.

Because at the heart of things, he and Hajime were on the same page every time.

Hajime gave him a large grin, one which seemed to take up his whole face, and hooked his finger around Tooru's.

\--

**18 years old.**

Iwaizumi Hajime was in some deep shit.

He knew this, felt the anxiety travel up his spine, churn his stomach, cloud his vision...

It was all consuming, and he swore his palms were sweating against the marker in his hand, eager to let it slip from his grasp.

 _Today is the day_ , his brain kept repeating, over and over. His heart stopped for a fraction of a second, and he willed his lungs not to go into a frenzy.

All this uncertainty, all this chaos inside him...and no one would've suspected a thing. Hajime's hands still operated diligently, shading and outlining the different shapes and details on his canvas. His face was neutral, if not focused.

Nothing like a man on the brink of exploding. Perfect. Sort of.

He felt his canvas squirm, and some of the marker smudged on the perfect, porcelain skin beneath him. _Never could sit still...._

"How do you know what all these different flowers look like anyways Iwa-chan?" Tooru's voice cut through his thoughts, but the tone was soft, relaxed.

Dangerous.

Hajime's eyes shot up to the source of his worries, and the pen in his hand stalled immediately, stopping at the tip of a large petal. Hajime met the wide brown eyes he was so used to, and nearly laughed at the unfair innocence in them. Tooru was anything but naive these days, but that childlike wonder had always remained.

They were currently sitting in their classroom during their lunch break, food half eaten (Hajime hadn't exactly been in the mood to eat). His hands had itched to draw, and this picture was more important than usual, so he'd taken up more than half their break on it. He'd tugged on Tooru's sleeve, pen already in hand, and the brunet had gladly gotten into position, like it was second nature.

"Stop moving around," Hajime muttered, though he didn't doubt the grin on his face rivaled his words. As much as his heart was pounding, he couldn't help but feel feather light, like he could soar. Tooru tended to bring that out in him, but today it was exceptional.

The design was almost done.

Tooru squirmed again just to spite him, and Hajime pinched his arm without mercy.

"Ow! You're not treating your muse very nicely, I want a new artist," Tooru huffed, but scooted closer to Hajime anyhow. Hajime's eyes flicked up briefly enough to catch Tooru's plump lips form a pout. "And you didn't answer me..."

Cute and insufferable. How did that work?

"It's a little late to ask for a new artist, like...twelve years too late," Hajime reminded smugly, his pen shading in the last flower on Tooru's bicep. "And you're the one who bought me that nature book, remember?"

For someone who was such a hard-ass about details, Tooru could be an airhead about the most random things. Although, maybe it wasn't fair of Hajime to think he'd remember  _everything_. Ever since Hajime had developed a love of drawing, Tooru had been his favorite canvas, and his biggest supporter. Buying him a plethora of sketchpads, guidebooks, references, the whole lot. Hajime's bookshelf was covered, and he had Tooru to thank.

_"Don't worry Iwa-chan, when you're a famous tattoo artist, you can pay me back in permanent art."_

Yeah, he thought, sounded like a deal. The idea of Tooru covered in his designs properly was more than his heart could take sometimes, but it only made him want to work harder.

Whether it be an art slump, or an explosion of inspiration, Tooru was always there to cheer him on.

It was why...why...

"Ah right, the one with the plant symbolism," Tooru answered, way too quick for someone who'd apparently forgotten, and Hajime's grip tightened on his pen."What do these ones mean?"

_You little shit._

Hajime flicked his gaze up, and oh what a mistake. Tooru's eyes were twinkling with mischief, lidded and nearly impossible for most people to resist. Hajime wasn't exactly strong willed himself when it came to that look. Sometimes Tooru really reminded him of some fierce predator, luring its prey exactly where it wanted them. He couldn't help but feel like he'd walked into a trap with this one.

They always did this, poked and prodded without ever actually  _doing_  anything. That invisible thing between them had grown and grown since their last year of middle school, materializing in the form of awkward moments and tense sleepovers as puberty hit.

Now though, now the tension was different. Because now Hajime knew what he wanted, and he refused to prod anymore.

"Guess you'll just have to look it up when you get home huh?" Hajime shot back, keeping his face as neutral as possible. Hard, since the way Tooru's eyes narrowed made him want to cheer, but sacrifices have to be made.

Hajime looked down at his work, mostly pleased with the final product. The silence from before enveloped them as Hajime touched up a few areas for good measure, but it was different this time, more...loaded.

Hajime didn't dare look back up. If he did, he'd surely crumble, and he  _couldn't_. Not yet. He still had one more thing to add...

"So...there is a meaning to it?" Tooru whispered, almost to himself, and Hajime flinched at the softness of it. The  _wonder_.

Hajime bit his lip, his eyes scanning the few scattered beauty marks along Tooru's arm. Shamelessly, he glided his thumb over each one, his rough fingers pressing down on the smooth skin. Tooru loved space, so Hajime had no problem envisioning constellations as his eyes roamed and connected each scar and mark. His breath caught as he felt Tooru shiver, reveled in the goosebumps that appeared under his ministrations.

He nodded, knowing Tooru was watching him intently.

"For me?" Tooru whispered, and Hajime couldn't hold back a snort. He got a huff in return, as expected, but it only made him want to laugh more. 

"No shit," he answered, popping the cap off his best black pen in order to add his final touch.

Tooru's arm was scattered with blue violets, the colors vibrant and the lines sleek. The petals were large, exaggerated, colored in deep blue which got darker as it neared the center. They glowed against Tooru's skin, for lack of a better word. It was probably one of the best things Hajime had ever drawn, the details and shading making the flowers burst forth, life like and mesmerizing. Hajime could practically smell the soil, feel the petals when his hands moved over them.

But the smudge he got in return just cemented him further into reality, mocking him, because he knew the colors would be washed away with one hot shower.

That was okay though, he just needed this to last for today. Just  _today_.

Then one day, his hand would be replaced with a machine, etching his feelings in permanently. Or...he hoped at least.

"Hmph, well are you going to tell me?" Tooru huffed, and Hajime could see his eye twitch, impatience finally shining through.

Hajime couldn't help but smirk as he inked a final sentence--a signature almost--underneath the petal nearest Tooru's elbow. A small block of text, so insignificant looking, but it was anything but. He made sure it was hidden from view. That way, Tooru wouldn't be able to read it until he had a mirror, until he was alone.

Capping the pen shut, Hajime leaned back in his seat, not minding the ink stains on his sleeves or his hands. His pens were littered everywhere, and lunch was nearly over, but it had been worth it. His heart felt like it would leap out of his chest, and his stomach was in knots, but what else was new when it came to Tooru?

Hajime brushed his foot against Tooru's leg, nudging playfully as a soft smile lit up his face. "Look it up when you get home. And...look at it in the mirror."

A demand to most ears, but more of a plea to his own.

_Please wait until you get home._

And he could only hope Tooru would hear it, like he usually did.

One of Hajime's hands still rested on Tooru's desk, and before long, slender fingers wrapped around his pinkie, squeezing tight.

\--

**28 years old.**

Paint and floor cleaners. The best.

Tooru unpacked the last box of supplies, setting the various pens and frames onto his new desk. The surface was cold, but the atmosphere was anything but, and he surveyed the parlor with pride.

The new leather seats, black as night, stood out against the white laminate flooring, giving the new shop a professional glow. All eight cubicles stood prepped and ready, with a vast selection of paints and reference books stacked up and ready for new artists to begin their work.

He and Hajime had interviewed and selected their tattoo artists carefully, and Tooru was excited for them all to make this place their own. Even if annoying customers gave him a headache, and even when Hajime had to stay past closing, Tooru was ready for all of it.

Tomorrow was opening day.

His footsteps echoed loudly in the quiet space as he organized the various portfolios of each of their artists onto the waiting table, laying them out as best he could.

_Kuroo Tetsurou, Semi Eita, Terushima Yuuji, Matsukawa Issei, Tsukishima Kei, Kiyoko Shimizu, and Kawanishi Taichi._

All sure to be interesting people, Tooru thought with a smirk. What? Meddling into the lives of new friends was his job after all.

With a fondness that could rival the oldest lovers, Tooru set down the final portfolio, fingers skimming across the neatly written name.

_Iwaizumi Hajime._

Somehow, the gold lettering of the name complimented Tooru's gold ring perfectly.

Smugly, he held it up to the light, forever impressed with the shine.

"Show off," a playful voice said behind him, warm breath tickling Tooru's neck.

"Hajime!" Tooru gasped, the tension in his shoulders appearing and fading in an instant.  _Son of a--_ "How the hell do you manage to still scare me? You can hear everything in here!"

Strong arms wrapped around his waist even as he pouted, but he didn't shun the touch.

"Not my fault you get so damn distracted," Hajime scolded, tapping a finger against Tooru's ring. As he spoke, he kissed at Tooru's neck, and soon enough the brunet's legs were reduced to jello. "Please tell me you're not going to do that in front of customers Tooru..."

Tooru smirked, shrugging lightly as he made his neck more accessible to the attention he was oh so fond of. "Hm, I don't know. You'll have lots of cute girls come in here Iwa-chan, I can't have them getting ideas."

"Brat."

"You love it," Tooru shot back, and he reveled in the teeth which bit down on his shoulder in response. He wore a tank top for a reason today. Hajime always got a little more handsy when they were celebrating something.

"I do. Really do..." Hajime mumbled against his skin, and  _goddammit_  Tooru refused to get emotional right now. They really needed to pick a mood.

The windows weren't closed, but fuck it, the last thing on Tooru's mind was being modest. He spun around, kissing Hajime slow and deep, all the feelings inside him spilling out. Their first kiss in the new tattoo parlor, definitely better than cutting a ribbon.

Tooru felt himself sniffle, and he cursed himself, but the smile wouldn't leave his face. They'd really made it, Hajime had made it. Just like Tooru always knew he would. Ever since they played together in the mud, ever since Tooru had rummaged through clearance bins for the perfect pens. All along he knew.

What he hadn't known was that they'd be together like this, but questioning it was far from his mind.

"You better still feel that way in fifty years," Tooru whispered against Hajime's lips, the skin of his bicep tingling at the mention. The memory was as strong as ever. And god, he really hoped Hajime would.

As if reading his mind, Hajime touched his arm, the flesh soft and free of ink. Completely different from the day it had been littered in blue violets. Completely different from how it would look from here on out.

"I told you I would, didn't I?" Hajime said, and yeah, fair enough.

Tooru was going to hold him to it. Somehow, he doubted Hajime really minded.

"Ready to be my first customer?" Hajime asked, linking their fingers together, and man, they were both smiling like idiots. But that was fine when it was just the two of them. They'd definitely get crap from their coworkers one day but, they could deal with it.

Tooru's life was everything he'd wanted it to be and more. Like hell he wasn't going to act happy about it.

Tooru let himself be led to Hajime's cubicle with those thoughts in his head, taking his rightful place in the leather chair beside his husband, and never wanting to leave it.

He smiled, certain as he'd ever been. "Of course I am."

\--

At the end of the night, Tooru's arm was wrapped and healing, but underneath the bandage, blue violets bloomed, signed with the same confession which would be there until the end of time.

 

_"I probably loved you at five years. So I'll definitely love you at fifty, and way past that too."_

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Comments are always appreciated <3 Also for fun, if you want to know the symbolism behind blue violets [check it out here!](http://blog.exoticflowers.com/blog-0/the-symbolic-meaning-of-the-blue-violet)
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